Scented
by aliencatt
Summary: Dean's been having a rough day and things aren't helped when 'he' walks into the bar. M/M...PWP... Read at own risk. OMC


**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. I'm just a fan.

* * *

 **Author's note**...I wrote this from a prompt for a friend. Michael is an OMC who, on request, looks suspiciously like a Mr Matt Cohen. This whole thing was an exercise to get me back writing. Enjoy...

* * *

==000==

Son of a bitch! That was all he needed, for _him_ to walk into the bar tonight. He'd come here to escape and relax. Have a few drinks and maybe pick up some redheaded action but then _he_ walks in.

It was bad enough that he'd had to put up with an entire afternoon of bitching from his not so baby brother. Ever since he'd given up hunting and found a place to settle down, more forced to retire and settle down, Sam would turn up once in a while and talk about how he needed to find something to replace the hunting. How he needed to find a mate and set down roots. Even raise a few pups or something. That had earned him a sour look. He had nothing against children, had always thought he might father one or two but that was somewhere in a distant future that as hunters neither were likely to have. Today though, Sam had brought up the subject again. It was as if he wanted to live vicariously through Dean. But enough of that as he would need a willing partner first and that just brought back the rest of today's bitchfest. He wasn't even convinced that Sam did have his best interests at heart like he claimed. This was all his brother's fault in the first place.

Driving along, listening to the Credence, smiling as the moonlight reflected off the blacktop stretched out in front of them, Sam was going on and on about some chick flick thing and then it happened. Out of nowhere a bloody big dog ran across the road and, distracted by the incessant whining from beside him, he didn't see it until too late and his beautiful baby hit the thing causing it to fly up, over the hood of the car and off to the side. Sam being Sam squealed and screamed at him to stop. They had to check, had to take the damn mutt to a vets.

But it wasn't a mutt. It was a beautiful full grown wolf with the most amazing eyes Dean had ever seen on an animal. It seemed to look straight in to his soul as he knelt down to see the damage that he'd done. Getting a blanket from the trunk, he went to wrap it up and take it to that vet. But this wasn't a dog that would look at him with trust and whimper slightly as it was handled. This was a wolf, a magnificent one and it fought the hands trying to help it. The damn thing had bitten Dean as he finally managed, with help from Sam, to carefully pick it up and place it on the back seat of the damaged Impala.

His hand smarting, wrapped in a kerchief, things just went downhill as the pained panting stopped and Sam said, "Erm…Dean?" He was going as fast as he could, dammit! "Dean pull over…" and he had then looked at Sam's stricken face then at what he was looking at in the back of the car.

It wasn't a beautiful injured wolf any more. It was a very naked, very dead man.

So here he was, near five months later, no longer able to hunt for fear of his secret getting out and trying to lay low in small town America. Of course that had worked out 'well', choosing to stay in the area and find out about the fallout from accidentally mowing down what turned out to be the Alpha of a local pack of shapeshifting, 'don't even think of calling us werewolf', wolves. And he'd thought Sam could be a bitch. And just because he hadn't been born in to the pack, the entire pack thought that they knew what was best for him. Sam fit right in.

Taking another swill of the local none too bad beer, he dropped his head and tried not to smell him. It wasn't some, 'we were meant to…. you're my soulmate' kind of smell like in some teenage emo sudo porn film. He just smelt so… damn… _good_. That rich masculine musk that some men have and Dean, with his new heightened wolf senses, got a lungful every time the man was near.

He'd managed to keep his new found ardour under control, being friendly to the man in his approaches but not too friendly. He was trying to control this feeling he had in the pit of his belly that involved fangs, taking, owning and well… just…. But in keeping himself in check he found that the local construction worker had just decided that he was playing hard to get. That was the trouble though, just being around that smell indeed did make him hard. Very quickly. He was worried what eventually he would do about it.

He was flattered really as the guy was clearly not giving up. Maybe he should just tell him that he was a shapeshifting freak? The guy was human, Dean could tell now just by sniffing someone. A handy skill if he'd still been hunting but he was just too vulnerable. What with his heightened strength, hearing, eyesight, speed and unfortunate tendency to sizzle at the touch of silver and sprout fur at the most inconvenient times, like ever. He and Sam had talked it through long and hard. A silver bullet to the head? Continue hunting with the worry that some other hunter would find out and take them both out? Not to mention the delegation that turned up at the motel room door that first morning after not impressed with either his or Sam's bravado or shotguns. Dean had unintentionally managed to kill the group's Alpha and that meant he owed them.

It had taken time to find his place and role in the hierarchy. He was an alpha male, well he had always known that, but a wolf alpha which meant much more. The downside, he was a hybrid, not naturally born as they repeatedly informed him so he had to fight for his place. Dean was always up for a barroom brawl or a knock out, knock down fight, giving as good as he got, just ask Sam, but that's not what they meant and Dean had already killed one wolf, by accident, so he had no intentions of killing anymore just so he could move up the ladder. He didn't want to be a pack leader. He just wanted to live, drink himself to death and fuck as many willing partners as possible before it all caught up to him. No way were they going to let that happen. Not his brother, not his newfound pack mother nor the young bucks that thought they needed to bring him to heal. He would not pick a fight but he would be damned before he would back down from one either.

"Dean," in greeting as the current bane of his life slid onto the stool next to him at the bar.

"Michael," he answered picking up and knocking back the shot of 'Jack' that had been sat waiting. The sharp hit of alcohol made his gums sting where the tooth had not yet settled down from the pounding he'd gone through the night before. At least that fight had been with fists and not teeth and claws for once.

He'd come here for hopefully some distraction and Michael would certainly fit the bill, if not for that damn musk. Sure he found many men's smell attractive but this was different, all-consuming and he began to wish either he had never laid eyes on the man or he'd listened to what the wolves had been trying to teach him. If it wasn't for the damn bite he no doubt would have fucked him long since and just moved on. But no, he'd been bitten and now everything was different. This man just had to be different. Just had to be special. 'Son of a bitch!' He called for another shot.

"So how long are you going to carry on like this?"

"Huh?" Knocking back the whiskey and signalling for the glass to be refilled.

"Come on, Dean, we both know how this is going to end."

He swung around begrudgingly and looked at his would be companion. Damn but he was good looking. Tall, slim and dark. He hadn't bothered to shave today and whether by chance or design just the thought of that dark stubble rubbing against Dean's skin made him swallow and…

"Did you just growl?" Michael asked with a laugh in his voice.

Groaning, Dean turned and summoned the bartender yet again. She sauntered over grinning wider each time but he just indicated more of the same to the shot glass. Been there, done that piece of ass.

"Cheers!" as Michael swiped the glass leaving Dean watching as he knocked back the dark liquid.

Dean ordered two more. He was going to need them and if things got out of hand so was Michael. He winced as he was convinced his teeth began to grow. It never happened with his usual pickups so why this one? Why every time the man got close to him did he have thoughts of devouring and his teeth began to grow? Vague bitching from his brother about mates and betas and such sprang to mind. Maybe he should have listened to some of it but Sammy had been having way too much fun with all this. He'd always wanted a dog!

So just why was he so attracted to this one man in particular? Ignoring the smell thing, he considered him from the corner of his eye and really gave it some thought. Michael was just sat there with a slight smirk to his lips probably knowing that he was being studied. They'd done all the idle chatter before, the job, family, football team kind of thing. They'd gotten closer as the night went on, done the kissing thing in the corridor to the restrooms, started to grope and pull but then Dean had back peddled and yeah, ran. He had gotten scared. He had wanted to bite and scratch and dominate.

The dark brooding look was attractive enough, not that Michael brooded. He always seemed to be about to crack a smile and his eyes danced with some secret joke. That smile could make even the most frigid melt a little and when he turned it on, Dean knew that he was a little more lost. The cheekbones alone were dangerous enough to cut yourself on and with that fine nose which led to a mouth created for laughter and sexual things, Dean stood no chance.

Michael knocked back a second whisky as Dean licked at his own lips. The mischievous look bestowed on him as the glass was slammed down on the wooden bar was a challenge, plain and simple. Then he smiled, wiped the back of a hand across his mouth and left Dean sat there staring after him as he almost sashed across the uneven floor and out of the door.

Well that was new.

Dean turned back to the bar and picked up his shot glass. One blink, two and he threw back the liquor, stood and practically fled the bar. He looked around the parking lot but Michael was nowhere to be seen. O…kay. Now who was playing hard to get? This was more like it. Dean had never been the quarry; he was the one that went on the prowl and tracked down his prey. He stood still, his brain hitting a wall as he thought about it. He had always been a 'hunter' but all these turn of phrases about hunting and prey were taking on a different connotation now. He shook his head and concentrated on what was important right at this minute. There a whiff of scent and he was off towards the street and around the corner to find Michael leaning against the side of his pickup.

As Dean approached, Michael didn't smile or say anything. He just reached forwards grabbing at the front of Dean's leather jacket and Dean found himself pulled in for a kiss. The sort of kiss that was banned in several states and he could understand why. This kind of thing should come with a warning notice. They'd kissed before but this time it was obvious that Michael was not going to let him off so easily.

That mouth tasted hotter and better than he remembered, maybe due to the whisky coursing through them both but he didn't think that that was the reason his blood was roaring around his ears or why he was so hard so fast. Michael was giving more than he was taking and it was turning Dean on so damn much. The hands forced up under his jacket, the tight trim body pressed against his as if he was trying to meld into him. The mouth against his was almost ravenous, animal in its desire and passion. Dean wondered if he had been mistaken, if Michael was not entirely human but then the man pulled back groaning and pushing his kiss swollen lips against Dean's ear begged, "Take me home, Dean." Then he was kissing him again.

There was something about the way the other was pressing his body against him, the way that he was kind of making himself the supplicant, the smaller weaker of the pairing even though they were of similar height. Yes he had a smaller frame than Dean but he was used to that. He wondered briefly, very briefly, if this was just due to him feeling all this extra strength and 'alpha-ness' that made it seem that way, or just his pure imagination as his hands went down to the man's very trim butt and grabbing hold, lifted him up and went in for a killer kiss, Michael's legs immediately taking the hint and wrapping themselves around his hips.

He was going to have to make a decision if he could just cut through the lust fogging his mind. Leave now, yeah that wasn't happening or take him home and fuck him without ripping his throat out. Dean stepped back dropping with difficulty the clinging body and took a breath looking at the panting man. His colour was high and his eyes were glazed and all thoughts of leaving or even taking it easy on the man fled. "Keys!" he demanded holding out his palm. There was no way that they were back tracking to the parking lot to get the Impala. This banged up old Chevy pickup would have to serve.

Panting, Michael handed over the keys saying breathlessly, "It's open."

'No kidding,' Dean thought, 'who'd want to steal this piece of crap' as he yanked the door wide, the hinges squealing even more than his baby's did. The door was lucky to stay attached to the truck with the force Dean used on it. He grabbed up his mate and practically threw him into the cab. Then he felt like he'd just been hit between the eyes. Mate? Shaking his head he thought nothing more about it, climbing in and on top of the occupant. One more searing kiss and Dean knew there would be no stopping him. He wanted this man, he wanted the smell to envelope him, wanted to taste him, his skin, his sweat, his cum, his very blood.

The drive to Michael's was perilous not least the speed and reliance on mumbled directions or that Dean could not keep his hands off the squirming body next to him and by the time they pulled up to the half restored track house, Dean's jeans were unfastened and Michael's shirt was in the foot well.

He wasn't too sure how but now he had Michael pinned against a wall in the house, his hands held by his head as Dean slowly, so slowly nuzzled at the stretched neck. He was trying to calm things down. There was a raging need he felt inside himself to pin this amazing creature to the ground and mate with him, to make him his. No, not mate, rut. No… fuck. He wanted to fuck him. Damn all these thoughts in his head.

He'd fucked plenty since he'd been turned, both as a man and as a wolf, but this was different and he was not too sure he liked it. He did not feel in control and he had the awful feeling that if he didn't manage to find that control of himself then this groaning, panting human in his grasp would not survive intact. If at all.

He had to calm down but Michael was doing everything he could to bring out the animal that only Dean knew was inside him. Or he seemed to be. Obviously he was no virgin or inexperienced novice. The way he kissed, the way he ground his pelvis at Dean knowing exactly how to get a man hard, but he seemed to be aggressively being submissive. Sure Dean had slept, or rather fucked enough people, men and women both, who wanted him to be the man, to be the top but there was just something different and he was having a hard time working out just what it was. But whatever it was it was working.

Dean had never taken more than was offered, never needed to as there was always a plethora of willing participants but even with that he had never felt this desire to dominate so thoroughly before. This he knew was different and new and had to be due to the wolf inside of him. Sure it was only two nights before the full moon and he seemed to get horniest in the week leading up to it but this was powerful. He nipped the flesh on the so vulnerable neck causing a desperate moan.

Standing back slightly, breathing hard, he looked in to the face of the man that just may end up his victim if he didn't get a grip soon. He felt confusion. Michael looked eager, flushed and expectant. Expectant and not in the least bit phased. Gripping those captive wrists tighter, Dean dragged them none too gently higher up the wall and growled low in his throat at how vulnerable the man was. At how the action brought them closer again and the scent that had been driving him mad seemed to crash over him this time added with… there, just a little fear. But with that fear was also an extra scent of arousal. Already heady in the room it turned up a notch. He tilted his head and growled again letting the wolf in him just a little nearer to the surface. Michael bit at his own lip, his eyes boring into Dean's and looked like he was about to cum.

Dean blinked and let the man go, stepping back, turning away and taking in a calm breath trying to find equilibrium. He could hear the disbelief from behind him but he had to give the man a chance. The way he was tormenting Dean meant he would not be able to stop himself soon. He wanted this man and he wanted all of him. He wanted to take him and never let him go.

"There's something you need to know. I'm not like other guys," and winced. That was so lame.

Breathing hard, trying to stem the disappointment in his voice, Michael laughed, "What? You're stuck in some cliché chick-flick movie?"

"Actually I was going more for Jeff Goldblum in 'The Fly',"

Dean knew with the next words from his mouth that Michael was the one for him. "What? So I should be afraid, very afraid?"

"Yes," he admitted slowly turning to face him.

Then Michael was walking up to him. It was the sexiest thing that Dean had ever seen. The jeans low on the hips showing off not only the trim muscled belly and chest but that tantalising trail of dark hair leading down, down and Dean forced his eyes back up to look in to intense piercing green eyes not unlike his own, although Sam said his had gained a brightness and a ring of colour around the edges. Sam also said that Michael looked a lot like their dad did in the old photos and that Dean had always had 'Daddy' issues. But then Sam was full of shit!

Michael moved closer, and told him while pressing his hands onto Dean's chest, "Well, I'm not afraid of you." Then swiftly, as Dean watched that mouth form the words, he had his shirt off his shoulders and Dean was raising his arms to be divested of his t-shirt. He leaned in closer and gave Dean's bottom lip a lick and sucked it in to his mouth. Dean thought his knees might give out. Who was being stalked and hunted now? He breathed onto Dean's lips then looked straight in to his eyes, "I'm not afraid of the big…. bad…. wolf."

"Wha…?" Dean was stunned but had no time to think as Michael's mouth was on his and that searching tongue had invaded his mouth making all thoughts flee. All he knew was that Michael had somehow challenged him and he picked him up, his hands holding onto those perfect seeming buttocks and swung him around and onto his back down to the hall floor. They had not even made it to the living room and Dean was certain of only one thing, he was going to have him and he was going to have him right here. And if Michael realised his mistake and started to fight him then all for the better, he wouldn't win.

He was laid out full on him, his hands yet again going for the other's wrists pinning them to the carpet by his head as he looked down in to lust blown eyes. The body pushed up against him and he took possession of that mouth. This time he was invading, searching questing and giving no quarter as he tasted, as he explored, his tongue touching, fighting Michael's that was not resisting but meeting him with equal passion and vigour. Every time the lithe figure pushed up against him Dean pushed back trapping him. He enjoyed the movements, enjoyed the fight but part of him demanded total submission and with that thought he knew that the wolf was winning. Did Michael really know what he was? What he was asking for? Was he aware that that was what he was offering? Himself to an alpha wolf.

He pushed himself upwards, his hands resting over Michael's wrists, the movement shifting still more of his weight onto their groins. It was excruciating, it was invigorating. He drew in a breath, noticed the eyes were watching his every facial movement. He had to know, had to ask, "What do you know? What do you want?"

The dark haired head fell back and Dean winced as he heard the thud and Michael relaxed under him. He worried for a moment that he'd knocked himself out but he just seemed resigned as if Dean was going to up and leave him again.

Sighing, Michael looked at him as if he needed Dean to know that he was the stupidest man in the world. Then he just set to staring unflinchingly in to his eyes as he began to shift beneath him, using his hips to start a rhythmic, slight side to side movement whilst pushing up against Dean. His so obviously hard straining prick rubbed against Dean's as much as he could get a purchase in the confined position.

Looking at that intense gaze, Dean found any coherent thoughts began to slide from his mind along with the rhythm of the rolling hips beneath him. Only half registering that his parted lips were threatening to droll, he saw the eyes watching him dip slightly to gaze as he licked his lips. Another one of those growls he found impossible to hold in or hide around this man only ended as his mouth captured the eager waiting one.

It was eager. The body, the man under him was responding with near equal vigour, their mouths and tongues fighting for dominance. It just egged Dean on to new passion. He knew he was going to win, if indeed it was a contest. There was no way he was going to let Michael go now, he was going to have him if he wanted it or not but the way the man was kissing him, the way the hands had pulled from his light hold and were now grasping at Dean's naked back told him that Michael had no intentions of 'losing' either.

Giving one final surge to the kiss that could possibly have drawn blood, Dean ground down onto the lithe body then he pulled back the hands trying to prevent him but he moved swiftly. No real thought, just moving on instinct as he grasped the fastenings on Michael's jeans and had the buttons undone and the tight coverings pulled down and off. He smelt blood, only faintly but instinctively his eyes moved to the scratch on the flat belly nestled in amongst the dark trail of hair where either the jeans or his nails had caught the flesh. The smell was enticing and he breathed in deeply. Every scent of this male made him feel, desire, crave him more than anyone had ever before. It was more than mere attraction, more than lust. It was a need, primal and dark but somehow wonderful too. This is what he needed. This is what he had always needed. This man, this ordinary man, a local construction worker he had first met in the chaos of the half fitted kitchen in Mrs Berdych's ranch house was somehow what he had been needing his entire life and he only realised it now.

It wasn't just that he was a willing playmate, that he was slim, tall and attractive. Or that he had a way of moving his hips when he walked that had Dean concentrating on his ass. Not even the easy smile or the laughter in his eyes and knowing look when he had caught him staring at his butt. It was his very presence, his demeanour, his scent, that unique smell that everyone has that had Dean opening his nostrils to get as much of it as he could, that had him moving closer almost from the moment they met. He had not been able to forget that smell, the underlying musk hidden beneath modern grooming. It was there, unfailingly male, unfailingly right. It was what Dean needed and not only that, he wanted. He wanted to wallow in that scent, to have it all over him, on his skin, in his hair, wanted the smell, the taste, the scent.

He practically ripped his own jeans down his hips, barely opening them before he surged down, his face, his mouth rubbing onto that perfect belly, his hands holding onto the hips hard enough to bruise as he held Michael to the floor, his cheek rubbing against that trail of hair, the man's thickened prick catching against his mouth and nose causing the smell to intensify, to deepen slightly.

There were fingers in his hair pushing, trying to guide him but he didn't have time for that. Yes, he longed to taste, to consume all that this man had to give but he needed to have, to take, devour, he needed to mate. The thought only half formed as he began to growl low in his throat. It came from somewhere deep inside him, low and ominous. He couldn't tell if Michael heard him, if he worried because he himself was being consumed by a need and passion he had never experienced before. He snuggled his face in deeper, pressing hard, causing a slight gasp from his companion then he was tasting, running his lips, his tongue along the shaft, the tang of the precum on his tongue caused him to lose any remaining coherent thoughts and he was moving again, his arm hooking around Michael's left leg pulling it up as he pulled the man down towards him.

His mouth found the other's open and begging and he answered him. Laying on him, his free hand holding the top of his head, his other arm pulling that leg up and positioning the man as his prick rubbed along the crack of the man's butt exciting them both as the weeping swollen head grazed over the tight opening. Again and again as Dean thrust his tongue into that hot breathless mouth, his prick caught at that hole spreading his precum, his hood catching, pushing at the pucker more aggressively with each pass.

He was so hard, never remembered being this hard, this wet before and he could wait no longer. This was never going to be a gentle lovemaking, sex or even a fucking. This was a taking, a devouring, that word coalesced in his half functioning brain again. Michael was his, always had been and now he was going to have him. He pulled back from the kiss, leaning up on his bent right arm and he stared into those dark green questioning eyes and the fingers of his left hand began a desperate search quickly finding and pushing at the hole. The eyes watching him widened suddenly in panic as a finger pushed into him with no warning or preparation and hands clutched at Dean's shoulders digging in whilst half pushing him away.

He would dream of that look in Michael's eyes, trepidation mixed with betrayal and fear, and feel shame at how it caused renewed lust to flow through him. At how he longed to see it again, the proof of his dominance, of his total control over him. Now though he felt no shame, no hesitation, just need.

Dean dragged his eyes away from that look to gaze at the kiss swollen lips. Michael would hurt after this, he would be bruised and aching and so would Dean. He leant down against the hands and fingers digging into his shoulders and licked at those lips, licked and nipped and sucked, distracting Michael, hearing his hitched ragged breathing, feeling the fingers relax a little. He had him trapped, where he wanted him and he was running out of conscious thought to prepare him. No way was he letting him loose while he went and got lube and there was no way on this earth that he was not taking him bare. He could smell him, the man was strong, young and healthy and would never be fucking anyone but Dean ever again.

Probably too soon, Dean began to move his cocooned finger working the resistant tight arsehole and soon forced in a second finger relishing the reaction beneath him. He moved his supporting arm to surround Michael's shoulders finding the man's fighting of him invigorating. He stood no chance against Dean and he knew the man had wanted him but perhaps Dean was being much rougher than Michael had expected or hoped for. Enough thinking. He was not willing to wait any longer. Releasing his fascination of that luscious mouth, Dean pushed his cheek against Michael's, holding him in place as he withdrew his fingers and then, with a little effort, the moist head of his prick was pushing against that hole, his hand holding the buttock tight, Michael's leg bent almost back against his body as Dean straddled the other. Begging whimpers by his ear that goaded Dean on and then glorious, the crown of his prick broke through the so tight ring of muscle and Michael let out a chocked almost scream. Dean pulled him closer.

Dean stilled savouring the feeling, savouring the gasps and hot breaths against his neck as Michael's fingers tightened and relaxed, tightened and relaxed against his shoulders and back. The wolf in him wanted to continue, to rut and fuck, but the part of him that was still human was screaming at him to take care, not to damage, not to hurt him. He didn't want to hurt him, he wanted to make him his. Keep him forever.

Relaxing his confining hold on the now rigidly still figure, Dean began to nuzzle at his stubble covered cheek, at his chin, moving behind the ear aiming for that spot sensitive on near all people. His hands lessoned their hold and began a gentle kneading, massaging motion all the while stopping himself from forcing his prick deeper. He worked his way along the jaw line to rub his lips against the other's, to gently surround that swollen bottom lip with his own. He kissed, sucked gently and ran his tongue along the warmed flesh. Hesitantly Michael began to kiss him back, slow almost delicate at first as if he was unsure that he should, and perhaps Dean could understand why.

Still patient but firmer, deeper, Dean kissed him and then Michael was responding, his hands now spread on Dean's back pulling him as he opened his mouth for him, let himself join in the dance. Letting go of his hold on Michael's buttock, the leg relaxed sliding down his side and Dean shifted, letting up on the tight hold and covered him more. His prick naturally pushed deeper into that tightness and this time he let it, Michael pushing up against him also as if it was the most natural thing he could do.

This was not going to last long, he had had to wait, had to control himself but not now. Dean pushed up from the ground as he thrust fully into Michael who gave up his own hold on Dean and pushed his shoulders into the floor, his arms going high over his head. Yet another growl escaped Dean. That's what he wanted, that's what he had been waiting for, Michael's submission to him. Whether the man was conscious of what he was doing, giving himself up to Dean or if it's just the way he liked it Dean didn't know nor care.

Bracing himself on taut arms, Dean began to ease himself back along the hot passage then he was thrusting in again delighting at the hiss Michael let out, so he did it again and again, thrusting harder, watching the contortions on the narrow face, loving the winches and gasps, adoring the look in the blazing green eyes as Michael focused on him, biting at his own lips as he lay twisted beneath him taking all that Dean gave him. He could feel the man's prick hard and hot trapped between them. Felt it quiver and twitch along with their movements. He should hold it, wrap his hand around it and bring the man some relief but that meant giving up his purchase, losing balance as he thrust slow but deep, over and over hard enough to force Michael's shoulders along the carpet.

It was all too intense and before he even thought it, Dean was cumming, shuddering as his prick emptied itself deep inside the gasping man. Too soon, much too soon, but Dean knew he was not finished yet. Not even close. He stared deep into the startled eyes watching him. If Michael was disappointed he did not look it. Actually he looked relieved.

"Don't worry," Dean grinned unknowingly running his tongue across his top teeth, "I'm not finished yet!" and laughed at the expression on the handsome face. Pulling his still very hard prick from Michael he knelt back looking him up and down his grin becoming ravenous. He instructed, "Turn over!" but the man didn't.

Dean watched incredulous as the thin frame scuttled backwards away from him climbing gingerly to his feet, backing towards the stairs. Dean's heart quickened, the wolf in him sensing the chase. "You know you're not going to get away from me."

Michael swallowed and nodded and Dean was half convinced that there was something in his eyes, as if he knew exactly what he was doing, "but I can try," and took another step backwards.

A quick jump and Dean was crouched, ready on his bare feet to run, the grin on his face widening and as that low growl started in his chest he knew that this time he was not imagining it, his teeth were growing. Again he ran his tongue along his top teeth to linger on his right canine stroking it softly as he starred at his prey.

Michael bolted. Up the stairs and was out of sight and, laughing, Dean went to chase but stumbled, his legs caught by blue jeans. He fell in to a forwards roll, dragging the clinging fabric from his legs then up and running the stairs in pursuit hearing a door slam somewhere ahead.

Pausing on the landing he listened. He could hear small muffled sounds but what he concentrated on was the scent. It was everywhere in this half renovated house but strongest coming form along the corridor. If he could have seen himself he would have been shocked. He didn't walk, he lopped towards the closed door then put his ear to the stripped wood and listened. Yes, he was definitely in there, he could hear him breathing, low, anxious and deeply. Standing back, Dean lifted a leg. One swift kick and the door shot open splintered wood from the frame falling into the room and there he was, kneeling on the bed, shock uppermost in his expression.

Dean sprang on to the bed crouching next to the seated figure backed against the headboard. "You didn't run very far."

"As far as I needed to." Dean looked at him askance, tilting his head. "Carpet burns a bitch!" he was told. It was Michael who pounced then, grasping hold of Dean's face between his hands and kissed him hard, passionately moving to kneel, moving towards Dean.

Moments and Dean had repositioned them, Michael beneath him once more this time with his legs wrapping high and tight around Dean's hips. Rubbing, rutting against him, Dean set up a torrid harsh rhythm. He wanted to be in him already but wanted Michael right there with him. He thought he was but this was important, this was going to bond them for life. Kissing him, he dragged his lips down, across his cheek onto that sharp jawline again. Nipping wanting to bite he continued, licking his way along the now stretched neck. All around he licked and kissed and sucked moving across to let his lips surround the vulnerable Adam's apple so prominent with the dark head forced back into the pillow. He could feel the man's breaths; feel the pulse of his blood and the swallow. All so tantalizing, all so intoxicating and calling to the wolf in him to bite. He sucked once then eased up to continue to nip then, catching up the skin on the side of the hard so male bone, he sucked a bruise dark and deep into it.

In answer Michael ran his nails in deep along the skin of Dean's back making him rear up and stare threateningly but Michael was not cowed. "Are you trying to mark me?"

Dean had finished playing. He had wanted to slow this down enough for the other to enjoy it too, but now he was incensed. This was too important to be turned into a game. Yes he was going to mark Michael but not with some small love bite, not with a mere hickey. Michael would bear Dean's mark for life.

The atmosphere changed as Dean began to rock against Michael, his prick rubbing hard and firm against the other that too had gained renewed strength. Pushing up onto straight arms he watched as the hoods rubbed against each other, concentrating on the feeling so he would not be looking into that gaze. He did not think he could control himself if he saw anymore mockery or possibly worse, desire. Michael's hands were surrounding his face, one under his chin trying to get him to hold his head up. He knocked the hand away snarling and continued to grind against the body that could not help but push back.

Dean's prick was covered in weeping pre-cum, his own and Michael's. Swiftly and again without warning, he pulled Michael's leg to the side and he was pushing into that tight muscle. The resistance was wonderful against his sensitive hood but he was frustrated at the delay. Pushing hard, hearing complaining murmurs from Michael but it was not enough to stop him. He pushed near violently and burst through, the fist hitting his shoulder and the expletives coming from his partner past by in a daze as Dean sank down into that heat once again. Tightness yielding to him just as Michael would.

Right now Michael was swearing up a storm and Dean moved to grab up his wrists, his hands covering the already darkening skin from before and forced them back over his head. His body lying heavy on Michael's, he began to thrust, began to fuck into him. Finally looking at his face, he saw the anger in the eyes and he loved it. He kissed him, fighting to catch his mouth as the other tried to pull away. Pulling back laughing, "Oh, please! You want this as much as I do!"

He kissed him again putting a stop to any protestations but the legs coming up to wrap around his hips were answer enough. He let go of the wrists and ran his hands down to hold onto the waist, pulling Michael onto him as he pushed inside. He could not stop kissing him, his tongue pushing, fucking into his mouth just as his prick was into his body. They found a rhythm, Michael clutching onto the pillows next to his head as his body pushed back against Dean's.

Much longer, this was going to last so much longer because even though it was all heat and passion and oxygen deprived it was wonderful. The most wonderful fucking Dean thought he had ever had. Nothing in the past could compare to the feel of this man below him. No one had ever smelt so good, tasted so good, took his now pounding prick so well. Michael had been made for him just as he had been made for Michael. Dean would never know what it felt like to fuck another man after this, or a woman. Why would he? They would all pale into insignificance after this. He would never need anyone else. He would never want anyone else. But now he had to make Michael feel the same. Now he would have to make him his in every way. Fucking him was amazing, but he needed to do more. He had to mate him.

Dean once again left off Michael's mouth and caught at his jawbone with his teeth, biting down just hard enough to get the man's attention, to still his movement. There was a groan of complaint and Dean let his jaw go, kneeling back pulling Michael up onto his lap all whilst still fucking into that tender channel. That was new. He would never have been able to do that without his new strength. Then one arm around the narrow back and a hand on a buttock he pulled and had Michael riding him. He looked up and grinned into the shocked face as he thrust up into him.

Michael wrapped his arms around Dean's head and shoulders as he held on for dear life. He looked up at him and Michael confirmed everything Dean had thought by leaning down and kissing him, letting him do with him as he would. Submitting to him. There was so much he wanted to do to him. He wanted to make love to him, wanted to take him in his mouth, swallow and taste everything. Wanted Michael to suck on him, to love every inch of his body slowly mapping each piece but not now, they had their whole lives to do all that.

Forcing a hand up between them he held onto Michael's jaw pushing his head back and looking him straight in the hooded eyes. He pushed his fingertips past the truly swollen lips and felt more blood rush straight to his already solid prick as Michael closed his mouth and bit down, trapping his fingers and began to suck.

There was no disguising his growls now for anything but what they were. A primal warning of desire, of wanting taking and having. He pulled from Michael and grabbing at those hips flipped him over onto his belly knocking the air from his lungs. Then he had him pulled up onto hands and knees and he yet again thrust inside of him harshly, not really caring if Michael's body was ready to accept him or not. One hand on his shoulder the other grasping tightly to a hip, he slammed into him over and over again. He could hear him groaning pain and pleasure all mixed up. The sound of the man's prick slapping against his own belly with the force of the fucking Dean was giving him. He was tempted to grab hold, to feel that delicate firm member in his hand, fucking into his fist just as he was fucked but no. He could hear above all else the call of the wolf inside him demanding that he do this now, demanding that he mate this glorious creature.

Pushing forwards, he knocked Michael flat to the bed lying full out on him still pushing, thrusting, the position making it slower, more friction as he slid in and out, no slapping of flesh on flesh but a more intimate taking, but taking still.

"I want you," he managed to force out past the need, past the wolf.

There was a muffled response then Michael forced his head to the side so he could speak. It was breathless and a mere croak but Dean heard him, "you…have me…"

"You mean it? You give yourself to me?" He had to know, he had to know that he was submitting to him, in every way.

Whether the phrasing was strange, understood or taken for something else all Dean knew was that Michael said, "Yes."

Dean practically howled as he shifted more onto his right forcing Michael's legs apart, pushing his left leg up so he could settle as deeply as he could inside him. He knew there was something different, knew he felt strange and knew that it was right. He began again in earnest thrusting inside Michael, a rhythm set that would take them the distance and would bring Dean the release he needed. His mouth began to fill salivating and he forced his face into the crook of Michael's neck, sucking up the skin, marking him, tasting blood but it was not enough.

Michael was responding, his butt pushing back in counterpoint to the thrusts, rubbing against the bed as much as he could. Again he was trapped, held where the stronger of the two wanted him and Dean fucked him harder than he ever had been fucked before.

Dean knew it was time and his teeth ached to be embedded just as his prick was. He opened his mouth wide over Michael's left shoulder close to the neck and as he felt his prick swell even more, a feeling he did not recognise or care about in the moment, gently but firmly bit down. His teeth broke the skin and the taste of blood rushed to fill his mouth. Nothing before had ever tasted so good, so right. He didn't feel the need to drink, to gorge; he knew he was not that kind of monster. This was a fulfilment and the scream from Michael was one he delighted in knowing that the next time he did this Michael would howl.

Closing his lips over the bite he continued to fuck him slower and shallower as he found he could not pull back from the channel. It slowly began to filter through his mind that he was trapped inside his mate and the human part, the Dean part of him rolled his eyes and groaned. The knot he got as a wolf had crossed over in to his human side and now he was coupled with Michael for as long as it took. It had never happened before in his human state, thank goodness, but now it was as it should be.

Embarrassment forgotten, Dean began a slow pushing knowing that when he pulled back it must be excruciating for Michael but as to in pain or pleasure it sounded like Michael was okay with it. Grinding against him, in him, Dean must be doing something right as Michael was shuddering, making those whimpering noises that drove Dean mad. It was working for Dean too. Pushing again and again onto the same spot, each time causing Michael to spasm a little. Dean upped the tempo knowing he could not stand this much longer, he needed to cum and only one thing was stopping him. The taste in his mouth, the noises from Michael and knowing it would never be this fantastic again. It would only happen once. Wolves mated for life.

Then there it was, Michael shuddered almost manically beneath him and Dean knew that he had just cum and it called to him too. He sank his teeth in deeper as he felt the convulsions around his deeply buried prick, the tight muscle clamping on to hold his knot tight trapping him, holding him just as he held Michael and he too let go. He came violently for a second time but this time knew it was for real and felt like it lasted for eternity.

Moments, minutes, hours later he didn't know, Dean recovered enough to slowly and as gently as he could pull his retracting teeth from Michael's neck and lapped at the marks. They would continue to bleed for a while he was certain but he was there to tend to them. He relaxed backwards pulling Michael with him and, wrapping his arms around him, snuggled with the nearly insensate man and settled in to wait for his knot to subside.

Stroking the dark hair, the flushed clammy face, he kissed at the bite, kissed the back of his neck waiting for some reaction, waiting for the fallout, praying it would be a happy union, dreading rebuke and recriminations.

As his own breathing settled and became regular so did Michael's as he came back to himself and pushed against Dean wiggling his shoulders as if trying to get comfortable, to make a nest for himself wrapped in Dean's body. He smiled at the idea and tightened his arms, kissing at that abused neck noting that the blood had already stopped flowing. It would look bad for a couple of days but from experience knew that it would heal way sooner than it should.

It would be a full moon in three days so Michael would change for the first time in two but he would have Dean to guide him through it. He would not spend a tense, terrifying night waiting to change with a hunter sat in a chair holding a gun loaded with silver bullets just in case things got violent. When it had become clear that Dean had immediate control over his wolf self, he had jumped down from the bed, strolled over and licked Sam's face just for the hell of it.

Dean set to wondering what it would be like, taking Michael as a wolf. As different again as it had been with Michael the human than any other human he supposed taking him as wolf would be different too. He grinned.

"I can tell you're pleased with yourself!" commented Michael as he twisted to look back at Dean. The movement pulled at Dean's knot making his prick twitch.

Dean pulled him back, settling him more comfortably. He was convinced that he would never tire of coupling with his mate but just not at the moment. His mate. He liked the sound of that grinning to himself.

"And you do realise that as soon as I get my fangs I'm going to mark you too?"

"W…hat?"

"You don't think I'm going to let you mark and claim me then run off and fuck some other beta do you?"

"err…..So…?" Dean didn't know what to say. He'd been fretting for weeks over a conversation like this if he were ever to go for it, turn Michael. Lord knows he'd wanted to from the moment he'd seen him. Or rather scented him.

"What?" There was laughter in the voice.

"So, you're okay with this? With what I've done to you?" A little put out that it might not have been the 'taking' he thought it was.

"You mean what you're still doing to me?" and he wiggled his hips making Dean moan and possibly whimper a little. "Don't worry. I knew what I was letting myself in for. You don't have anything to feel guilty for," turning again to try and look at Dean sounding a little worried that that was the case. "I wanted you, Dean. And I wanted to be yours. "

"But…..the wolf thing and… everything?" his voice rising a little in pitch. He couldn't understand someone actually wanting this. To be a monster. He thought of Mrs Berdych and all her family. They weren't monsters and neither, he hoped, was he. "But….how?"

"I've lived here my whole life. One of the Berdych boys was in my class. His mom was my math teacher."

Dean's head started to spin. "But….me?" he managed to squeeze out.

"Oh, everyone in town knows about you. The idiot that ran down the pack's Alpha!" Dean just made a strangled noise. "Oh don't worry. They really don't hold you to blame. They know you're an idiot."

"Hey!"

"But you're my idiot now," both a smugness and contentment in his voice.

Dean lay back and tried to take it all in. He hadn't been the hunter, he'd been the prey. Michael had set his sights on him and gotten him. He should be angry but he wasn't and, as Michael twisted again to place a kiss to his lips, he let the man pull his arms even tighter around him as they snuggled down to rest and wait for Dean's knot to let them loose. He smiled again thinking, 'then Michael will find out just who's the Alpha around here.'

"Oh and Dean?"

"Y…eah?" worried at the singsong smug quality of Michael's voice.

"You do realise that the door wasn't locked, right?"

====end====


End file.
